


There Are No Stars Underground

by river_soul



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Human Trafficking, Violence, Winter Soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 21:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30044895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: You’re forced into the dark world of Hydra after being kidnapped on your way home from work and soon learn the truth behind why Hydra is so intent on keeping Omega  prisoners.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 89





	There Are No Stars Underground

**Author's Note:**

> One day I will write something other than A/B/O but today is not that day. This is for @dark-side-of-the-marvelous-moon who requested Feral Alpha Winter Soldier Bucky. Thank you @whisperlullaby for being an amazing beta and friend.

You blink when the hood over your head is removed, eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh light after so long in the dark. The zip ties on your wrist are cut away, the skin beneath rubbed raw. You’re pushed into a small room lined with cots, the smell of distressed Omega assaulting your senses. Scared eyes stare back at you from all corners of the dimly lit room. 

The Betas in the doorway urge you forward with a sharp jab to your ribs. Behind you, the clang of metal rings out as the bars to the cage snap shut. You hover uncertainly until one of the Omegas steps towards you, a gentle hand at your elbow encouraging you to follow her. The acrid smell of fear overwhelms her natural scent of vanilla and cinnamon. 

“Sit,” she urges as the others press around you, noses twitching to take in your scent. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. “Where am I?”

She’s quick to shush you, hands fluttering up between you in alarm. “They don’t like questions,” she whispers.

You blink at the warning in her voice and see how she eyes the guards at the door. Your gaze lingers on the thick metal collar around her throat, the same one all the others wear. She touches it and looks away when she notices you looking at it. 

“It keeps the soldiers from bonding us,” she explains quietly. “A small mercy.”

“The soldiers?” You ask, chest tight with the implication in her voice. You think about the man who took you in the van. 

“We are their reward,” she says simply. 

Her words make your stomach churn. It’s all you can do to stare numbly at her as she explains your purpose here and the bleak situation that waits for you. When the others speak up, sharing their own stories and warnings your throat constricts and your chest tightens. They seem especially fearful of the Alpha they call the Soldat who is more animal than man. 

“He doesn’t hurt you as much if you’re…if you submit,” one of the younger Omegas, Molly, tells you as the others murmur in agreement. “He likes it when you’re sweet but sometimes he’s angry and there’s only pain.”

You reach out for her hand, instinct demanding you comfort her but your touch does little to lessen the smell of her fear. 

“Fuck that,” another voice says. “I’m not playing the compliant little victim. This shit is sick.”

The other Omegas chitter nervously, looking at the girl who spoke. She arrived shortly after you, kicking and screaming against the guards who shoved her into the small room. She’s older than you but not by much. Her bright green eyes are angry and determined. 

“I’m not going down without a fight,” she warns.

“That’s good, we love the feisty ones,” a new voice says.

When you see who stands at the door you shrink back. You remember his dark eyes and the jagged scar on his jaw. He’s the Alpha who took you from the parking lot. The one who let his hands wander over your body while he whispered all the awful things he would do to you while you lay zip tied on that floor of the van. He approaches the cage and the other Omegas draw together, closing ranks as he curls a hand around the metal bar. 

“Assuming you survive. He snapped the neck of the last Omega who tried to claw out his baby blues.”

“Sit down,” Molly urges the green eyed Omega, tugging on her hand. “Please, don’t make them mad.”

“You should listen to the little one,” the Alpha tells her. “Submit and you might survive.”

He turns his attention to you next, leering openly at your body. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips disgust curls in your gut. Gentle hands pull you back into the warm huddle of bodies. You know the other Omegas are trying to soothe you but it’s no use, not with the other Alpha so close. 

“You’re up next kitten,” he says with a grin. “Just as soon as medical clears you for him. He’ll be coming tonight. Assassinations always get him a little under the collar. I hope you survive. I’ve already put in a request to have you next.”

–

It’s difficult to mark the passage of time without a clock. It feels like you’ve been in the room for several hours but you can’t be sure. You watch as Alpha soldiers come and go, taking different Omegas with them, and eventually it’s your turn. You struggle when the guards grab you. No one helps you, the other Omegas fall back, averting their eyes. The guards half carry, half drag you through the hallway until they reach the infirmary. You’re stripped of your clothes efficiently and dispassionately and strapped to a table. The doctor and nurse who examine you don’t answer your question or pleas for help. You’re poked and prodded and given a shot before they take your blood. When it’s over the guards fasten a metal collar around your neck. It’s cool against your skin and tight enough you can barely slip a finger between it and your throat. 

They don’t redress you, telling you with cruel laughter that the Soldat will only shred them. Humiliation churns in your gut as you pass more soldiers in the hallway and feel their eyes on your body. Eventually, you stop before a thick metal door at the end of the hallway. Beside you the guards shift nervously and you notice for the first time just how uneasy they are. It’s small, the shift in their scent but you can smell their fear for the man behind the door. That knowledge makes your anxiety spike and your heart beat painfully against your ribcage. 

You don’t want to die. 

You close your eyes and let out a shaky breath as you feel something crystallize in your chest and you make the painful decision to do whatever you need to in order to survive this. You’re not going to die here for your pride or some misguided sense of dignity. Those were gone the moment you were thrown in the back of the van. Your only job is to survive. To make it through whatever happens in that room because if you’re alive you can escape. 

When the door beeps and opens you swallow heavily and steel yourself. Firm hands push you into the room with enough force that you stumble. The door behind you locks, the mechanism whirling before falling quiet again. It’s a small room with grey concrete walls and no window. The only piece of furniture is a bed with a fitted white sheet. The Alpha that sits on it wears nothing except a pair of black tactical pants and a mask that covers the lower half of his face. The Omegas warned you about his metal arm. It looks terrifying up close. Long black hair obscures his features except for his piercing grey blue eyes. For a moment you’re transfixed by them before you remember.

You drop your gaze to the floor, head tilted to the right and back to expose the smooth column of your throat. A gesture of submission. He inhales sharply, the sound loud in the silence. Then he makes a low noise, halfway between a purr and a growl. It’s a pleased sound that encourages you to lower yourself to your knees and sit back, placing your palms down on your thighs. You wait for several agonizing seconds as he watches you without moving. Then bed creeks as he rises and pads towards you on silent feet.

When he crouches in front of you the clean, wintery smell of pine and wood washes over you. A finger under your chin urges you to look up at him but you don’t meet his gaze, eyes settling on a spot on the wall just over his shoulder. You keep your posture loose and compliant, letting him touch your face and neck. A hand around your bicep encourages you to stand as he does. He makes a slow circle around your body, eyes taking in your features as you try not to tremble under his gaze. You feel his fingers ghost over your ass as he hums. 

“Bed.” 

His voice is low and gravely, laced with an Alpha command that has you moving towards the bed before you fully comprehend what he said. He directs you to lay on your back and takes a seat beside you. Calloused fingers trail over your body, tracing the swell of your hips and running over the soft, delicate skin of your stomach. His touch isn’t inherently sexual, more curious than anything. Under other circumstances, it might have been considered nice, soothing even but your whole body is tense and you wait for his touch to dip into something sexual. 

“So soft,” he whispers, fingers sweeping over your breasts before stroking your jaw.

He leans in close, the mask bumping against your face as he inhales deeply. You’re not sure how much of you he can smell through it but it must be enough because he lets out a satisfied purr. When he draws his hand back down your chest and stomach to dip between your thighs you try not to flinch. You’re dry but that doesn’t stop him from exploring you. It burns a little, the finger he works inside you as his thumb brushes over your bud. 

The touch makes you jump and he repeats the action, his eyes intent on your face. Soon enough slick gathers between your legs and he adds a second finger, moving them slowly in and out of you. It’s not until his gaze shifts from your face to watch himself touch you that you dare look at him. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. It’s impossible to see his full expression with the mask covering half his face but his scent is calm. There’s a touch of something sweet underneath his musk, a sign of his own arousal. Your eyes drop to his lap and see the way his erection strains against the fabric of his pants. 

You force yourself to lay unmoving, even as his touch builds a pleasant warmth in your stomach. You’re not sure what you expected from him but it’s not this strange gentle exploration of your body. His fingers speed up, thumb pressing harder against your tender flesh. The action rips a shaky whimper from your throat and his gaze jumps back to your face. You blink and look away but a hand on your chin forces you to look back at him as his fingers and thumb draw pleasure from your body. 

The expression on his face is intent and you see a glimmer of something dark and predatory in his gaze. It fills your hindbrain with a primal sort of fear that overwhelms even the pleasure he’s forcing your body to experience. He seems to sense the change in you, a growl building in his chest that warns you to stay still. You let out a shaky breath and force yourself to remain still and calm. You keep your eyes locked on his, following the unspoken command until his fingers finally push you over the edge and a dull sort of pleasure sweeps up your stomach and into your chest. When your eyes flutter open again he’s standing beside the bed, naked. 

You only see a flash of his cock, large and thick, before he climbs on top of you. He settles between your thighs, heavy and warm. It’s not until you’re laid out beneath him that you realize just how large and broad he is. You feel oddly calm for what’s about to happen. It almost doesn’t feel real, like watching yourself through a thick pane of glass. Everything is muted and quiet. 

You reach out to touch the side of his head, remembering the advice of the other Omegas. You want to keep him calm and gentle. He stills above you when you scrape your nails over his scalp and his eyes flutter closed. You repeat the action again and a purr rumbles in his chest. Tentatively, you reach up with your other hand and stroke the parts of his face that are exposed. When you draw your hand over the ridged surface of the mask you feel it give slightly. A clicking sound.

His eyes snap open, both hands coming up to his face as he pulls at the muzzle suddenly. 

You withdraw your hands, frightened you’ve done something wrong but his attention isn’t on you. You listen to his arm whirl, the sound of metal and plastic giving way, and then suddenly you’re left staring at the cupid bow of his full lips. He snarls, mouth pulling back to reveal sharp white teeth. Before you can scream he has you flipped on your stomach, all but sitting on your back as your legs kick out. He’s heavy, the weight of him nearly crushing but that’s not what makes you panic.

It’s the feel of his fingers, metal and flesh, slipping under your metal collar that tear the high pitched whine from your throat. The metal of your collar groans under his hands, choking you as he pulls but then it snaps and the pressure is gone. He rolls you on your back again, thumb forcing your chin up as his eyes travel down your throat. He looks mesmerized, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“You could be mine,” he whispers, brows creased. 

It’s the first full sentence he’s spoken to you and he looks as surprised as you by his words. Something flickers in his gaze and his brows pinch together. Suddenly his whole body tenses and his gaze darts around the room, almost frantic before it returns to you. He seems confused by the sight of you beneath him and when he reaches out to touch your cheek his fingers tremble. You can only stare, terrified and bewildered by the strange change that’s overcome him. 

Then he jerks his head to the side hard enough you hear bones crack and he blinks rapidly. He works his jaw and when his cool grey eyes settle on you they’re hard and cold again, like the surface of a lake frozen in the deep of winter. You swallow heavily and his eyes track the movement, fingers caressing your jugular.

“Can’t take you away if you’re mine,” he growls, mouth stretched wide as wrenches your head to the side.

You struggle beneath him but his body keeps you pinned to the mattress and there is nothing you can do to stop him as he buries his teeth deep in your throat. You wail in pain, white hot agony spreading through your veins as his teeth slice through skin and muscle. Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. Something warm and wet trickles down the skin of your chest. At the metallic smell in the air, you realize it’s blood, your own. The instinctual urge to struggle surges through your veins but your body feels too heavy and lethargic to do anything. 

Dimly you’re aware of the door opening and people filling the room, their angry, panicked voices rising together. Your Alpha lets go of your neck and you feel a fresh wave of blood trickle from your throat. He’s crouched above you, teeth bared at the men who draw closer. When one of them reaches out to touch you he flies into action. Naked and bloody he fights, cutting through the soldiers with a ruthless sort of efficiency until there is only one man left.

The last man stands by the door, white lab coat pristine despite the blood in the room. When your Alpha advances on him he says something in Russian, voice low and monotone. Your Alpha pauses midstep, head cocked to the side and the man speaks the same words again. Like a puppet with their strings cut, your Alpha crumples to the floor. You whimper in distress, vision blurring. The last thing you see before darkness swallows you whole is the man in the lab coat hovering over you.

–

You return to consciousness slowly.

It takes effort to open your eyes as you blink away the haze. The white walls that greet you are bland and unfamiliar. You glance down at the metal arm that rests along your chest, the tips of your Alpha’s fingers touching your clavicle. He’s a warm and heavy presence behind you, the soft puffs of his breath tickling the crown of your head. You know he’s still asleep, you can feel the muted press of him at the back of your mind through the bond.

You wet your parched lips, throat dry and aching. His mark is deep, you can feel an echo of it through your shoulder and neck. Even swallowing hurts. When you shift, fingers tentatively touching at the thick gauze wrapped around your neck, your Alpha startles awake. The arm around your chest compresses suddenly, cutting off your air supply. You wheeze, a pained, panicked sound rattling in your chest before the arm is drawn away and the warmth at your back disappears.

The cool air of the room makes you shiver and you realize you’re still naked. You touch your chest, remembering the tacky feeling of blood on your skin but the skin there is smooth and dry. Someone must have cleaned you up and taken care of the wound on your neck. You wonder if it was your new Alpha but something tells you it was the doctor. The thought of him touching you while unconscious makes your stomach roll. 

From behind you hear a soft growl, nearly a purr. An answer to the distress your Alpha can feel in your body. He reaches across the bond to you, hesitant in a way that surprises you. Warm, calloused fingertips on your shoulder apply just enough pressure to roll you onto your back. He’s already seen you naked but you clutch the covers to your chest, desperate for whatever modesty you can get. 

You expect him to climb on top of you and finish what he started earlier but he only watches you. He doesn’t move his hand from your shoulder and there’s a small part of you that aches for his touch, the comfort skin to skin contact can bring. For a long moment, you both just stare at each other. His eyes seem more blue than you remember. It makes you think of summers at the beach, sun kissed sand beneath your feet, and warm water lapping at your skin. An unexpected sense of safety washes over you and your body relaxes a fraction even though you don’t understand why. 

“No,” he breathes, face horrified. 

You can feel his distress and the need to soothe your Alpha has you instinctually shifting closer to him. 

“We don’t have much time,” he whispers, grief clouding his beautiful eyes. “He’ll be back soon.”

His words make you tense. 

“Who?”

“The Soldat,” he says, fear evident in his voice. 

You blink, confused. “I don’t understand. If you’re not him then…who are you?”

“I…..I don’t know,” he admits, a vulnerable expression on his face. He looks scared and young and you realize you’re not the only prisoner here. “I was someone else before all this I think but I can’t remember. They make me forget.”

You see a flash of a chair and feel an echo of the agony that lights up his body through the bond. 

“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he tells you, fingertips brushing over your cheek as his other hand slides into your hair. 

His touch is tender and sweet and it makes your heart throb painfully in your chest. When he presses his forehead against yours, you can feel his guilt and the desperate desire he has to protect you from himself and whatever the future holds. Your eyes flutter closed and you push away the horrible truth of your situation to focus on this moment of comfort because you know it’ll be a rarity. You release an unsteady breath and lean into your Alpha, brushing your nose over his tenderly. 

“Omega,” he sighs. 

“Alpha,” you respond, tension bleeding from your body. 

You’re not sure how long you lay together like that but eventually, he shifts and your eyes flutter open. Cool grey eyes stare back at you and the hand in your hair tightens painfully. The bond between you lights up with a want and desire so powerful it actually steals the breath from your lungs. 

When he smiles at you it’s all teeth and you shudder, trying to pull away. Whoever was with you before is gone, replaced by the Soldat. He rolls you under him, fingers ripping away the bandage at your neck, ignoring your cry of pain as he noses the wound. His teeth scrape over the tender flesh as his thighs force your legs apart.

“Mine,” he growls. “Only mine.”

You scream when he forces himself inside you and his teeth reopen the mark on your neck. There is no escaping him.


End file.
